


Creaks and Groans

by RedStarFiction



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 15:23:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5053918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedStarFiction/pseuds/RedStarFiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A silly piece but I hope you'll enjoy it. Jamie and Claire feeling their age a little.<br/>*Potential spoilers for anyone who has not yet read the books.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Creaks and Groans

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not hugely keen on writing J/C sex scenes as I feel there is a trove of them out there, but this occurred to me and I couldn't resist.

Claire set down the book and removed her spectacles. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, trying to rub away the exhaustion. She had never and would never regret coming back to Jamie, but certain conveniences, like electric lighting, would be very welcome.  
The small oil lamp Claire had been using to read by glowed defiantly on the desk, its flame flickering as though aware of her discontent.  
“I know, I know, you do your best.”  
She muttered and heard a low chuckle in response. For a moment she stared at the lamp and then as a movement caught her eye she swung round to see her husband leaning against the door-frame, grinning at her.  
“Bloody hell! You could have announced yourself! How long have you been there?”  
She whispered, conscious of the children sleeping in the next room.  
“Long enough to witness my wife speakin’ to a lamp.”  
Jamie stretched up the length of the doorframe, bracing his hands against the ceiling, his back popping loudly.  
“Come to bed Sassenach. Whatever it is can wait for sunlight, ye look like a wee owl hunched there in the gloom.”  
Claire straightened her own back indignantly and resisted the urge to groan as her spine straightened. Apparently she really had been hunching.  
“In a little while, I need to finish this chapter on …”  
“Dinna tell me,”  
Jamie interrupted, holding up a cautionary hand.  
“it’ll either be a herb I dinna ken or a ‘procedure’ I dinna wish to think of before bed.”  
Jamie pronounced the word procedure with exaggerated care, it was his preferred way of referring to anything bloody and medically gruesome that Claire might be interested in telling him about.  
Jamie moved into the little room and held out his hand to her. Claire placed her hand in his, a familiar warmth spreading in her chest at the sight of his battered and scarred fingers closing around and entwining with her own weathered digits.  
“How many times have I held your wee hand in mine do ye think?”  
Jamie asked quietly and Claire shook her head.  
“I couldn't begin to tell you, but it could never be enough.”  
Jamie's chest swelled with a deep and steadying breath but Claire was shocked to see tears glinting in his eyes in the dim lamp light.  
“Oh! Oh Jamie!”  
Claire was on her feet in moments, aching back forgotten as she reached for her husband.  
“Dinna pay me any mind a leannnan. I seem to be becoming an emotional auld fool these days.”  
“Nonsense,”  
Claire placed her hands along either side of his face, threading through his beard to run her fingertips over his cheekbones.  
“What's on your mind?”  
Jamie turned his head and kissed the inside of her wrist, just below the tiny, faded 'J' he had placed there over thirty years before. When he spoke his voice was thick with emotion and his eyes fixed on hers with an intensity that raised the hairs on the back of her neck.  
“I dinna ken how much longer I have left to live in this world Sassenach but I truly hope I ne'er need spend another day of it wi'out holding your hand at least once.”  
“Jamie...”  
Claire began, closing her eyes as he pressed his forehead to hers, but the words died in her throat and she stopped, heart pounding. The enormity of their mortality flashed across her mind in a way it had not for a long time. Without warning the memory of thinking Jamie dead, lost at sea on a doomed ship, was upon her and with it came a terror and a desperate, almost painful need that she had not felt in years.  
“Jamie, I need you. Now.”  
She demanded, eyes wide and focussed entirely on her husband.  
Jamie's own eyes flew open, he had been lost in the warmth of his feeling for Claire and not thinking of ravaging her in the cramped little study.  
“Here?”  
Her hands slid under his shirt and he felt his body begin to stir, his own hands settled in Claire's mass of salt and pepper hair, a thousand shades of brown, gold and silver in the dim light.  
She arched her spine, pressing herself into his touch and her own back creaked loudly  
“Jesus! Sassenach! Are ye...”  
“I'm fine … just …”  
Claire was fumbling with his breeks as Jamie tried to navigate them back towards the sofa. The buttons popped open and Jamie felt his cock spring free, pressing into Claire's skirts. His hands dropped to her arse and gripped her hard  
“Pull ye skirts up lass.”  
He growled softly, his need beginning to match hers.  
Claire fumbled for a moment, the room was small enough in its own right but with Jamie stood in it, the space felt unconscionably tight. Finally she managed to get a hold of the hems and hauled them up. Jamie ran his hand up her bare thigh, settling his palm just above her backside, ready to guide her to the arm of the settee but in a moment of recklessness, Claire launched herself up at him and wrapped her legs around his waist. For a blissful and breathtaking moment, they joined as one flesh. Then Jamie felt a shooting pain in his hip and a twinge in his lower back and without warning his legs buckled and he flopped backwards over the sofa arm, Claire still pressed on top of him, his hands shielding her head as they fell.  
Jamie landed awkwardly across the cushions, tipping the entire thing alarmingly backwards, before it crashed back into place with a bang that shook the window. Claire, unable to keep her balance, slid onto the floor with a much smaller but considerably more painful thump that she knew would leave a beautiful bruise by morning.  
They lay frozen for a moment, waiting for Mandy or Jem to cry out to Brianna, or the dogs to start barking, but the house remained mercifully silent.  
Claire looked up at Jamie from under her mass of curls and saw his entire frame quivering with suppressed laughter. Claire felt it flutter in her own stomach and crawled into her husbands arms, burying her face in the hollow of his neck, doing her best to remain silent.  
After what felt like an age they pulled themselves together and sat up, hiccuping and wiping their eyes, grinning at each other like loons.  
“Oh God,”  
Jamie shook his head and dabbed his shirt tail against his streaming eyes.  
“My poor wee Sassenach, is your arse alrigh'?”  
He enquired, tracing his fingers down her flank. Claire nodded and grimaced,  
“Yes. Luckily I still have a fair amount of padding on that particular region of my anatomy.”  
Jamie snorted and took a firmer grip, making her squirm.  
“How's your back?”  
“It's twinging a wee bit but no doubt it'll sort itself by morning.”  
Jamie shrugged. Claire struggled to her feet, more hunched than ever, one hand pressed to her lower back, the other stretched out to her husband.  
This time it was Jamie who placed his hand firmly into hers and together they manoeuvred him up with only a couple of muttered curses when his back protested the movement.  
“I'm sorry Jamie, it was my fault.”  
Claire said, blushing at the memory of her foolish leap but Jamie only smiled at her.  
“Dinna apologise mo chridhe. The day ye dinna wish to leap into my arms will be a verra sad day for me indeed.”  
Hand in hand they limped toward their bedroom, the occasional snort or giggle escaping between them, feeling a strange mix of youthful joy and old bones.


End file.
